


In The Wake Of A Monster

by RedPony



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: M/M, Main Characters don't appear until the end of chapter one, Mentioned Abuse, Mentioned Mistreatment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:36:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedPony/pseuds/RedPony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What can be found beneath the things the Centauri left when Narn had been freed? What if a Centauri had been 'forgotten' in the aftermath of the murder of Cartagia and left on Narn?</p><p>Rated M to be on the safe side. This was a very old drabble I once started and never looked at it again. However, as soon as I decided to share it the plot bunnies began breeding.... I just wanted to go through what I had and erase some spelling and grammar errors as they gave birth and I found myself chasing fluffy little plot bunny babies all over the text.... aaaaand right into a second chapter.... then a third .... right now I'm writing the fourth and I'm pretty sure I can wrap it up in a fifth.<br/>Damned little monsters!!</p><p>Edit: This is now finished.... shush you terrible little bunny! Leave me alone or I'll have bunny-stew!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aftermath

The once somewhat beautiful if overly palatial suite was in complete chaos. Draperies had been shredded to bits, intricate knickknacks and ornaments thrown around like trash, valuable throws and pillows tossed around; some of them had burst and spilled their stuffing everywhere. Boards and cabinets had been emptied, their contents searched, mostly destroyed and thrown around. With all the disarranged stuff filling the room and the dim light coming from somewhere outside one might have overlooked the slim figure huddling in a corner, partly covered by a drapery hanging nearly ripped from a lopsided curtain pole.

It was a young man breathing heavily.

In a way he looked like a strange humanoid reflection of the disarranged room. His brow was split and blood was slowly tickling down at the side of his swollen and beaten face. His eyes were closed but one could see he was still awake by the haunted look of a drowning desperation that had twisted his handsome features into a mask of pain and fear. His body was leaning in the corner as if he could not bear to hold upright without the support. His left arm was clutching around his midsection, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side, hand resting on the floor. His clothes were in disarray just like everything around him; revealing his long slender neck now blemished with bruising broken only by a nicely carved golden ring snuggling tightly around his throat. The heavily ornamented writing on it said: Tesorino ~ property of Cartagia.

He looked strange for a Centauri. His hair was a light golden blonde and hadn’t his eyes been shut in pain one would have seen amazingly silver eyes. He was a caprice of nature, the Centauri-version of an albino.

An extremely rare and beautiful creature if not beaten to a pulp.

His rasped breath was the only noise inside the room. However he could hear the turmoil outside and he was afraid what those who caused it would do to him if they found him eventually. He sighted and tried to move into a more comfortable position but a stinging pain ripping through his dislocated shoulder and his broken ribs made him stop that instantly.

He had belonged to Cartagia, the former emperor of the great Centauri-regime. The people involved with the plot that had resulted in the emperor’s death on Narn had made short process with what they believed to be the emperor’s faithful minion. No one had ever bothered to ask him what he thought about his former master. He had never had a choice in the question whether or not he’d like to be in the company of the madman someone had seen fit to ascend to the throne. He’d been given to Cartagia as a gift at the age of six, only a few years younger than the prince, to be used as a playmate as much as a servant or whatever the young prince would decide to use him for. He had been a valuable slave because of his rare genetics; probably taken from a powerless and insignificant family by someone who thought him to be useful. He couldn’t remember when or how or even by whom it had been done. He was raised to serve and obey; he knew nothing else. Usually one might have tried to raise him further, train him as a servant and tried to marry him to a woman that might have been able to carry his rare traits to their children, this way getting more valuable slaves since the child of a slave is a slave. But when rumors spread that the young Cartagia might one time become emperor, the parties involved with schemes and plans concerning the young man had bought him and decided that an exotic plaything like him would buy them the favor of the young prince, a plan that had worked quite well since the prince had become very fond of this special gift in his own twisted way.

The room faded from his view when the beaten Centaury delved into his memories, away from the destroyed room and the noise of the still rummaging Narn.

At first it hadn’t been that bad. Cartagia had been a lonely child. Just as much as any royal or even just slightly noble child at the palace was. Between eternal lessons in anything and everything, permanent monitoring and never ending duties, the new child slave he had at his disposal was a welcome distraction and he felt good by being friendly and generous. Tesorino thought back at these times often in later years and his heart would burn with longing just as it did now. It really hadn’t been bad at all. Since he was very young he also had had his continuous lessons to help him being an appropriate aid and personal servant to the young prince and the boy had never forgot his place, never doubted his low status and non-existent value apart from a price if sold; but still he had felt as if the young prince cared for him, maybe even liked him. It was the first time in his life he had the feeling he mattered to anyone beyond his worth in money and it was dazzling. He knew even back then, as young as he was, that this was nothing to be trusted but he could not hold back his growing love for a master who treated him kindly, even affectionately.

Now he lay forgotten on the floor of Cartagia’s rooms in the palace of the Narn-homeworld, covered in the marks and injuries from the beating he received when his own people had come to these rooms to search them and secure nothing crucial would be left here. He cringed when a cough made his broken bones and dislocated joint sending searing pain through his body. He might have deserved this if his love had persisted and the relationship between him and Cartagia had survived unblemished. But when the soon-to-be-emperor had grown older his ways of self-indulgence had become more and more twisted and vicious and so had the treatment of his personal slave. Tesorino had soon been the victim of Cartagia’s every whim. Whenever his master had been bored and wasn’t able to find anything else to occupy his time he had indulged himself by finding new ways to tease and test his servants obedience. Whenever he managed to make Tesorino fail he’d been more than happy to find new and creative ways to punish him for failure without letting his more and more immoral tendencies show to others. He also had hold back whenever he was in court or surrounded by others. Whatever or whoever dared to anger the already  self-aggrandizing and deranging prince, Cartagia hadn’t shown his true feelings until alone with his servant who had no one to turn to and could not tell anything that happened behind closed doors. If he had even tried to he wouldn’t have needed Cartagia for punishment. A traitorous slave would have been snuffed out, whatever reason he might have had to betray his master. So he could only endure. The change of treatment made Tesorino’s heart break but he had known before that any affection he had felt coming from his master had to be an illusion, a whim at best, so his spirit didn’t break.

When it was decided to let Cartagia ascend the throne he was widely perceived as a silly and easily manageable fool; knowing that the power would lay with those who had helped him to the throne and easily to be guided from the dark; a puppet. But Tesorino would have known better and could have warned them if anyone had bothered to ask.

Cartagia’s father had known too but he was death long before he could warn anyone. After all, one of his last decisions had been to remove parts of Tesorino’s male anatomy special only to Centauri to prevent clinging marks on his son after he started exploring all kinds of strange sexual practices starting with the subject easiest available. The only reason they hadn’t just castrated him was that they still had the hope Cartagia would sooner or later loose interest and then the unique slave could be used as breeding stock. The young servant once had overheard a conversation between Cartagia’s father and another noble that he was happy that Cartagia had not been given a female to his disposal since it would have been very unfortunate to get rid of any unwanted hybrids. It just would not have been appropriate for a noble to have offspring destined for slavery while on the other hand it would have been a shame to throw away lucrative possibilities.

At the end even Cartagia didn’t want to risk marring hisslaves beauty beyond repair, knowing very well that it would be almost impossible to get a surrogate if he broke his favorite toy. Had he not held back and destroyed Tesorinos beauty it would have been the chance for Tesorino to escape his master alive. Maybe even free if his maiming would have been accidental and the emperor was feeling generous. But it never happened anthing irreversable and all scars he had were not to be seen at first glance. Also Cartagia had been still fond of Tesorino, even if that meant to make him suffer even more.

While musing about his actual situation he remembered how he himself had thought back then that he would have traded with anyone anytime. Anything to escape the life he had. While lying here, slouching in a corner of an abandoned palace, he thought how little he had known about how bad it would become later and about real suffering at this times. But first, soon after Cartagia’s ascension, it had even become better since his master suddently had many targets for his attention and Tesorino was allowed to be nothing more than a servant again. Well at least most of the time. Cartagia still had kept him very close. Envious of every look his servant got for his exotic beauty and his deep and beautiful voice he barely let him leave his masters rooms or Tesorinos own very small room, adjacent to Cartagia’s suites, which could only be entered or left through Cartagia’s very own bedroom. Tesorino was a trained and gifted singer people would kill to be allowed to listen to but although Cartagia loved him singing sometimes he still seemed to love his voice even more when it was hoarse from screams or if he could make him beg for mercy. For a brief moment Tesorino’s hand wandered up to his neck, touching the golden collar. It felt smooth and warm. He guessed, when they’d tried to strangle him they hadn’t even noticed how it had prevented them from blocking his windpipe completely. In a way it had saved his life, whatever this was worth. As soon as he had been fully grown Cartagia had a jeweler made the collar and attach it to his neck to show his affection. He had drugged the slave into unconsciousness and when the younger man woke up again it had been there. He meant it as a gift which he expected Tesorino to be grateful for. It could not be removed easily if it was even possible at all. As far as he could say, it hadn’t even a fastener. It was meant to show Tesorino off as well as to show the carrier as much as anyone else his status and belonging. It was a tight fit, intricately carved and decorated; a glittering golden band winding closely around his neck with no start and no ending he could find; a constant reminder of his eternal enslavement. Attached to its front was a very fragile looking ring, right beneath the writing. It was barely visible, made to blend into the carved ornaments and it looked as if it could be ripped apart by the tiniest pull but it wouldn’t. Tesorino knew from experience that it could hold his own weight and some more easily.

Cartagia had tested it.

Often.

Then the Narn had been brought to the royal court. It was a nightmare. Whenever the mad and self-aggrandizing emperor got unsatisfied with the amusement provided by the last of the Kha'Ri he let his temper loose with his personal servant. The Narn seemed to be not very entertaining lots of times. When the Narn refused to bow Cartagia made him instead, if the Narn refused to scream the madman ‘tested’ new ways to try and make him do on his servant and even the refusal to maim his darling didn’t mean that the torture was any less painful or humiliating. But still, Tesorino new he’d been death or maimed a long time ago if Cartagia hadn’t been fond of him in his own sick way. It wasn’t just his beauty and his voice. All depended on his obedience and his ability to satisfy the wishes of a madman. And he managed. Somehow he managed to keep Cartagia’s interest and to amuse him again and again. But the cost was high and bitter; too bitter to endure without any consequences. Back then he had started to take pride in his own secret resistance. Being ordered not to scream he held back as long as needed, but not as long as he could have. Knowing that if he deceived Cartagia he would withhold from his master what he wanted without letting him know. Often the emperor tested new ideas before used on the stubborn Narn on him and he knew, although his master would make the torture somewhat harder on the Narn his deception still made him do less than he could. At least, if healthy, a Centaury wasn’t that much weaker than a Narn and the servant himself was considered healthy and resilient. If one would have bothered to ask the emperor he would have told there was no one as obedient and pliable as his servant that even Tesorino’s hearts would beat in a rhythm he desired if possible but it wasn’t the truth. Secretly, deep down his inner core, Tesorino was fighting. If he was meant to stand up as long as possible, he’d stand as long as needed to satisfy the sadist, not a second longer. Cartagia didn’t know, but that made it even better, made it feel even more like resistance. He took pride in the fact that he would be able to withstand much more than his master believed him to be able; to be stronger than supposed; to lie down because he wanted to and not because he had to; to scream because he wanted to and not because the monster made him. He knew that many would not think it mattered, but he also knew it did. After all it was all he got.

Tesorino clutched his abdomen again, the throbbing pain from the beating momentarily drawing him out of his memories. He had been waiting in this suite for his master to come back when the door had been pushed open and Centauri had entered unauthorized and without warning. They had come the moment the word had spread that the emperor had been confirmed dead and the freshly appointed Prime Minister Mollari had announced that the Centauri would leave the planet. Of course Tesorino hadn’t known any of this. Who would remember or even bother to tell any news to a servant or even more: a slave?

Anyhow they had remembered that Cartagia had kept him close. Since he lived separated from all other servants and barely spoke to anyone besides Cartagia himself, they had assumed the sadist emperor had loved and pampered his ‘little pet’ and also assumed these feelings were mutual. They just saw the lush clothes and the glittering collar they considered jewelry. They didn’t see beneath the surface. Few people could have told a different story and none of these would bother even if they knew what happened to him right now. When he had stepped up to prevent intruders into his masters rooms as was expected from him they hadn’t even hesitated a second. The first hit to his stomach would already have made him fall if they hadn’t caught him and hold him upright. They had teased him with what had happened, believing it would hurt him and told him no one would bother to bring home a used up boy toy like him. Meanwhile they had beaten him with fury, tugging and thrusting him with so much force he had felt as if he was back at the torture chambers he had seen too close when Cartagia had reenacted what he had done to G’Kar. Only this time no one cared if he was marked or not. Two assailants had held him while a third one twisted his arm backwards further and further until he felt his shoulder dislocate with a painful plopping feeling and a disgusting crunching noise. His screams made them laugh. They had kicked him, hit him and tugged him harder and harder but they were short in time. So eventually they had tried to strangle him til blackness had swallowed his thoughts and left the limp figure thrown out of the way in the corner believing the slave to be dead, not bothering to make sure, while bruises started blooming on his neck where he had been grabbed and choked. When he awoke later the lights where gone and he could barely see. It took great effort and hurt like hell when he tried to sit up but he managed and it was much easier to breathe after he leaned in his corner. After a while his eyes adjusted to the dim light falling through the slightly opened door and he could see his surroundings. Now he listened in fear to the oncoming noises of the Narn raiding the abandoned building; destroying everything left behind. Tears run down his face and he shuddered. They were so close.

He fixated his eyes on the door which stood slightly ajar. There his end would appear eventually. Which hope could he have otherwise after what his own people had done to him? Which hope was there that a Narn would see what they had refused to see, that the main-victims of the greed that had robbed the Narn-homeworld and destroyed lives and families would feel mercy for another victim not as easily recognized as such? Even his own people who should know about the slavery on their own planet and the colonies just as well as the way Cartagia had threatened anyone in range hadn’t even supposed he could not be a pampered sycophant.

Soon the noises became louder; they must be right at the door. His breath quickened and he tried again to raise himself but his earlier attackers had not only dislocated his shoulder but also broken his left tight bone and ankle. They must have been kicking him some more after he blackened out since he could not remember how this had happened. With a barely suppressed whimper he sank back. There was no escape.

He could hear the rush of his blood in his ears and the fast beatings of his hearts. His breath became more erratic and thereby more painful but he forced himself to stay silent. After all that happened, after all been done to him and although he hadn’t the slightest idea what to do now he didn’t want to die.

Soon the door swung widely open and the light became brighter when a Narn entered the room. Although the noise penetrating through the walls and the door indicated people raging outside this Narn seemed almost calm. He had his head lowered and sighted. He was wearing a sword behind his back and his clothes were surprisingly neat and not nearly as ragged as those of the others Tesorino had glimpsed at though the windows whenever no one was watching, peeking through the draperies that covered them before Cartagia had died. The other shuffled casually through the mess. Tesorino didn’t know that this Narn as well as the others that had peeked through the slightly ajar door into the room had thought it had been already broken by other Narn and not the leaving Centauri. Also the Narn didn’t know that these rooms had been meant for the monster whose death they were celebrating. Little did he know about the long timespan he had missed unconscious, lying hidden under some fallen draperies which had covered him entirely until he woke and struggled to rise.

The Narn soon sauntered near the half hidden figure huddled in the corner still without noticing it. He kicked a dented golden goblet out of the way; unintentionally hitting the broken ankle of the Centauri. Although Tesorino managed to hold back a moan along with his breath his leg twitched involuntarily, making the cup rolling away again, clattering noisily over some broken glass. The Narn followed the movement of the cup with his eyes; stopping death when he realized that he was looking at a boot connected to a leg in tight golden trousers. His eyes wandered up the beaten body and with a more stunned than surprised expression the Narn locked his red eyes with the silver ones of the uncommon Centauri. The seconds they looked at each other lasted for eternities. Eventually the Centauri managed a forced laugh that resembled more a cough than anything joyful.

“Are you going to finish what they started?” Tesorino hoarsely managed to say.

The Narn looked disgusted; “What?”

Tesorino giggled a bit; still joyless and pained. He gathered all the strength he had left and rambled on:

“They left me here you know? Maybe they forgot me but it’s also possible they left me for you. So you can finish me off that is. They didn’t care if I’ve been really dead you know. They knew you would finish what they started anyway.”

A shudder run through his body and he looked away when the Narn carefully moved closer. Finally the man crouched in front of him and Tesorino forced himself to lift his head and look into these unreadable red eyes just as the Narn made a move to reach out for him.

“Please…” he choked out before his voice hitched and died. The gloved hands stopped shortly before touching him. He was so frightened of what they would do to him when they touched that he shook violently. His breath now came in erratic and painful gasps and he could barely sit upright anymore.

“What is it?” asked the Narn, his voice dark, cold and calm.

The Centauri swallowed hard. He needed all his strength to force himself to look into those terrifying eyes. He felt darkness creeping in and sucking on his grim determination never to give into fear. He still wanted desperately to live but he also knew his chances were close to zero. All he had left to do was clinging to his last shreds of dignity. He could barely hold back a sob and his voice nearly broke but with the faintest whisper he managed to finish his plea:

“Please do it fast.”


	2. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on it goes, who's the Narn that found the Centauri and what will he do?

Ta’Lon stayed still just a moment longer, his hands hovering over the huddled figure without moving. He looked back into the silvery eyes which held his gaze and never broke contact. Then he let his view move down to the exposed neck. Slowly, almost gently he pushed aside the ripped ruffles of the lavish white dress shirt smeared with blood. He let his hands slip around the neck, covering the bruises just visible above and beneath the glittering golden band which had obviously prevented it’s carrier from being strangled to death. He let one hand slip around the Centauri’s neck, pulling him forward to examine the collar and shuddered at the terribly pained noise escaping the tortured man. But still he pulled him forward, tilting his head back to let the dim light fall onto the collar he wanted to remove, searching for the fastener.

Soon he found himself at the floor next to the beaten man, his arm around his back, supporting his head with his shoulder, cradling the shaking and panting slave. The Narn stared into nothing, still digesting what he had just read and therefore realized, one hand still loosely encircling the throat of what was meant to be his worst enemy.

What should he do? He didn’t know. This was unexpected, too much for a warriors mind.

“Maybe it would be for the best to make you die fast right now,” he murmured, “it might just be the most merciful thing to do.”

He looked down at the Centauri in his arm; looked at the tears silently sneaking out beneath luscious blonde lashes and along the beaten up face. He saw the tightly closed eyes and recognized the effort it cost the man not to sob openly. He let his view wander over the tense body, the heaving chest and felt the rapid beating of two hearts beneath his fingers even through the gloves and he just knew: despite all the pain and the bad chances this man wanted to live! This slave was clinging to life, fighting for life just as any Narn slave would do in his place even if the chances were ever so slim. But he would not beg.

Ta’Lon asked himself if he would have the strength to be this quiet, this unresisting and brave while lying helpless and injured in the arms of one of his greatest enemy; awaiting to be killed.

And all of a sudden Ta’Lon knew he could never kill this one Centauri.

But still the question remained: what to do now? He had no idea what to do with this man. Slave or not, his fellow Narn would not hesitate to rip him apart by sight. Maybe they would regret later. But they would not be able to contain their rage long enough to consider if they saw what they hated so much.

He himself had barely been able to hold back. Just a few moments ago he had wanted nothing more than to close his hands around the other man’s throat and choke the life out of him.

Helpless he looked around and his eyes caught sight of the ripped white curtains. How many corpses had they taken out, wrapped in white sheets very similar to these if one didn’t look too close?

Maybe his first step could be to get him out of here. He could stall the final decision a bit by just getting the man out of here. It might even happen that the problem solved itself. The Centauri had been pretty beaten up; maybe he wouldn’t survive the night?

Gently he lowered the other back against the wall and started to smooth out the curtains next to him. Then, as careful as he could he lifted the Centauri up and laid him straight on the curtains and started to wrap him up tightly, ignoring the suppressed whimpers and moans of pain as good as he could.

“I’m going to give you a chance,” he told the unresisting figure, “but it is up to you if I can get you out of here or not. You have to keep absolutely silent, no noises and no movements. Will you manage?”

He looked back into the silver eyes and realized the shuddering had stopped. He nearly shrunk back from the fire burning in them. “I have survived Cartagia, I will survive this. If you’re willing to do that, if you really can manage to do this for someone you should detest I will manage too.”

Ta’Lon sighted. He completely wrapped the Centauri just like he would have a corpse and cradled him in his arms. He hold his gaze down on the burden in his arms as if he was struck by grieve, hoping no one would bother holding him back and questioning him whom he was carrying out of the palace. There had been so many found dead in several rooms and dungeons he hoped no one would look too close or realize he came from the wrong direction. Still he tried not to cross paths with other Narn. He took great effort to avoid anyone and he was lucky. Most of the corridors were deserted and those Narn who still rummaged around made enough noise to be easily avoided.

Soon he stood in a small alley beside the palace and realized he didn’t know where to go next.

The breath of the wrapped person was ragged and loud although he could feel how much the man tried to hold back. Soon he decided that there was only one place to go. Close enough to reach fast and with an occupant who might be better suited to decide what to do next than he was.

As fast as he dared he hurried through the night to the provisional shelter of Citizen G’Kar.


	3. Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate plot bunnies....

G’Kar had just lowered himself on the thin mattress in the confiscated house he had just occupied, when he was disturbed by urgent knocking.

He sighed. He had only be free for a few hours and his body was still aching from the torture and drudgery he had just gone through and his people had barely been able to give him any treatment. He didn’t know what anyone could possibly want from him again and he didn’t really care.

But the knocking repeated and it seemed very urgent. Besides, only a few people knew where he was anyway and those who knew would not dare to disturb him if not absolutely necessary.

So when the knocking repeated he wrestled himself up again and limped to the door.

When he opened it a slit it was pushed open instantly and inside stumbled one of his most valued friends carrying something that looked suspiciously like a corpse.

“Ta’Lon!” he gasped, “I didn’t even know you were here! What by G’Quan…”

“Shh,” the other Narn urgently uttered, “close the door. Come over here.”

Curious G’Kar watched the warrior lowering the alleged corpse very gently down on a table.

The warrior quickly stood straight and placed himself between the table and his friend.

“There’s something… I don’t know how to put it.” Ta’Lon started. “Well I found something in the ruins of the palace I don’t know what to make of. Maybe a diplomat and philosopher like you could help a simple warrior out?”

Even more curious G’Kar etched closer to the table but he found himself stopped by his friend.

“I promised him a chance you know?” Ta’Lon urged, “please, don’t break my promise, look closely at what I brought to you and know that the Centauri have taken him here and done this to him, whatever else might come to your mind the first moment you look at him.”

The other Narn looked intensely into his friends remaining eye, leaving him even more puzzled than he had been moments before but after a while G’Kar nodded and Ta’Lon moved to let him pass.

G’Kar turned to the table and started unwrapping the person he soon realized to be still alive.

Even through the covers he could feel fear and pain radiating from the person hidden beneath layers of silken draperies and he had the strange feeling to unwrap a poisonous gift. All of a sudden the most unexpected sight revealed itself beneath the layers.

He looked directly in the face of an enemy.

His first reaction, despite everything he had said to his fellow Narn, was to leash out and snuff out the life that was laid into his hands. To revenge what was done to him on this person without even thinking twice. He stepped back from the table and breathed deeply; calming his mind and preparing for a second look.

He realized that although the overall appearance of the unexpected ‘guest’ was Centauri, something looked odd.

His skin was very pale and he looked beaten up but that wasn’t it. He soon registered the unusual hair color. Then he stepped closer again and finished to unwrap the whole body of the man on the table. He immediately saw he was badly injured. He wouldn’t have needed to hear the rustling breath to know that some ribs had probably been broken, the tattered dress shirt and the ripped open golden vest revealed bruises so big and dark it was impossible the man hadn’t suffered even more serious injuries. He noticed that although his whole body was tensed, the Centauri only clenched one fist; the other one was limp as well as the arm. One Leg looked normal; the other looked odd and twisted in two places. He looked back at the face of his ‘visitor’ and realized his eyes were open but besides the unusual color they were also clouded in pain. The man was barely clinging to consciousness. The trip to this shelter must have been excruciatingly painful; a wonder the man hadn’t already passed out. The clothing although now ripped and disheveled looked as if it had been lavish and pretty just as usual for a Centauri. He could not remember to have seen him anywhere before.

At last the beautiful carved, golden glittering collar caught his eyes. He had never seen anything like this been worn by any Centauri before. He bowed down to have a closer look at it and at first he saw the small ring attached to it. Makes it look like a dog collar he thought just when his eye caught sight of the writing.

It was a dog’s collar. Sort of.

He looked back at his friend Ta’Lon, finally getting a hunch what might have made the man come here.

“You said the Centauri did that?” He asked.

“He said so.” Ta’Lon repeated matter of factly.

“And you believe him?” G’Kar asked. But he didn’t get an answer. The other Narn just stared at him. “Of course,” G’Kar answered his own question. “The Narn would have killed him and dragged his corpse through the streets cheering if they’d found him first.”

The former ambassador stared blankly into nothing. “Why would the Centauri try to kill him and then just leave him here?” he mused.

“Be….because…..” both Narn startled by the quiet voice struggling to raise and answer, “because they… assumed just because he liked me he wouldn’t…. They hate me for being his slave. They ha-hate me for…. They don’t understand….” Tesorino finally couldn’t keep up anymore. With one more ragged breath he let blackness swallow him. The two Narn stared at the unconscious man. Then, suddenly they moved closer and without any more word they started to attend the multiple injuries. G’Kar just had gotten the feeling that Ta’Lon might be right; this one might deserve a chance at last. After all, who if not he would understand. Had he not seen what this vicious monster had been able to do? How could he of all out there harbor any doubts about how Cartagia would have treated anyone left at his mercy? And he had seen h the true nature of the Centauri. They were a species destined to destruction. Decadent and gullible, uncaring and cold, a single life, even the life of one of their own, had little worth in their society. This poor creature lying disfigured at the table was nothing more than a scapegoat for their overall anger and coldness that poisoned their entire existence.

While carefully trying to remove the ripped dress shirt and vest to look after the wounds beneath G’Kar mused about the vast risk a single individual had to be just swallowed up by its surroundings, chanceless to escape its destiny If society itself would fail to beware humanity.

At first they took care of the dislocated shoulder while trying not to disturb the broken ribs. It was not an easy task.  Lacking better alternatives Ta’Lon started ripping the long drapes he had brought to long stripes to use as bandages G’Kar gathered some water and a soft cloth to clean the Centauri’s face and upper body from blood and dirt.

Now and then the man winced even in his unconscious state and the Narn was happy he didn’t wake up. After they had bandaged his chest and shoulder as tightly as possible they had a look at the maimed leg.

They both knew they could only help provisional. They had to get him off of Narn as soon as possible if he was meant to life without being crippled.

Ta’Lon went out and came back with some short and thin wooden slats they could use to brace the leg after they had done their best to reduce the fractures as good as possible under the circumstances.  

“What now?” sighted Ta’Lon after they’d finished all they could.

“Now, while hoping he has no internal bleedings we could do nothing about you are going out to get a bit more inconspicuous clothing for him I will try to arrange transport as soon as possible and as far as possible away from here.” replied G’Kar. “After all this was my plan before. It might just had become a tiny bit more complicated”

“Do you want to take him back to Babylon five?” the warrior inquired.

“No I don’t think that would be safe. After all he still is a slave and as far as I know the Centauri they will do anything to get him back as soon as they learn he’s still alive. They hated Cartagia nearly as much as we did and they’d love to get to someone they assume to be a former follower.” G’Kar replied, “I doubt his status would matter for any of them. Furthermore I’m not sure if there is even any legal ground to keep him. He is a Centauri slave after all and they have their own rights concerning them. I assume the others would help him if they could but I’m also sure the lesser know about this the better.”

G’Kar leaned back in a chair and looked thoughtful. “I still might have no choice than to contact them. I just can’t think of anyone else to help.”

Ta’Lon nodded and turned to leave. Just as he reached the door he was held back by the other Narn.

“Try to get something black.” G’Kar called after him. Smiling Ta’Lon left the shelter. He now knew his friend had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I wonder what they taste like.


	4. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shushing away those darn bunnies. No more! Leave me alone! OK, I'll finish this today, but then it'll be over OK? ... OK?

When the transporter arrived the human Ranger who came to aid the Narn who had requested discreet help was surprised when he saw what looked like a heavily injured human leaning on the also quite haggard looking former Ambassador G’Kar and another Narn he didn’t know.

The man who accompanied them was looking terribly beaten up. He was tall and slim, with ruffled, short blonde hair that looked as if it had just been trimmed with a pruner and a young and handsome face. He was hobbling, stretching a fully bandaged leg away from him, the two Narn were holding him carefully and as if he was fragile. He did not lift his head or open his eyes to look at anyone around them. He pressed down his chin on the black rag that was wrapped all around his neck. The human pitied him. Something terrible must have happened to him. Maybe he had been mistaken for a Centauri and beaten up by Narn.  The three hurried inside the ship as fast as possible, heading out to the cabins prepared for the injured. The Ranger had already alerted the medics which had been assigned especially for this mission. He didn’t know why they had needed that specialist but they’d know and he had only to do his duty. If he needed to know he’d find out.

Soon the Transport headed out for a route to the next rangers camp at one of the Minbar-Colonies. No one on board knew why G’Kar didn’t go back straight to B5 but they wouldn’t ask.

But that wouldn’t prevent anyone from being curious.

As soon as the trio entered the cabin a very relieved Dr. Franklin greeted them enthusiastically. He barely waited for them to help the Centauri down on a biobed before he greeted G’Kar warmly. He would have attended to the Narn immediately but G’Kar looked at the Narn medic waiting at the door to the next room and indicated that he would let himself be treated by her. Franklin had been confused why the Narn had asked for a skilled xenobiologist and a Narn healer but he had assumed that he would have his reason. Now he turned to the only other patient in the room and with one look at the now open, shining silver eyes he knew why he was here.

This could impossibly be a human. Usually with his human appearance this could mean only one other species but he could not imagine what could make two Narn rescue a Centauri from their own destroyed homeworld. Confused he stepped closer to the man who besides of the awkwardly wrapped injuries looked strangely stiff as if waiting for something terrible to happen. Gently he touched him lightly and introduced himself.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Stephen Franklin; I’m a human doctor and xenobiologist. I want to help you. I won’t hurt you. Please tell me who you are and what I can do for you.”

The man looked back to the other Narn that had stayed in the room. He seemed vaguely familiar to Franklin but he couldn’t quite put him anywhere.

The Narn stepped forward and put a hand lightly on the man’s shoulder which seemed to calm him down and answered in his place.

“Hello Doctor, my name is Ta’Lon and this is Tesorino. He’s Centauri. He had been left for death when the occupation ended. We would like you to help him out.  You must excuse me speaking for him but…This morning his voice is rather hoarse due to… a rather ungentle attempt to strangle him. He has some other serious injuries too and we would be happy if you could have a look at them.” He smiled slightly at the human, “Oh and _absolute_ discretion about all of this would be highly appreciated.”

Franklin looked aghast at the rather unlikely scene in front of him. The Centauri avoided his eyes. The Narn stood behind him and touched him in a way that was obviously not only meant to be reassuring but also seemed to be just that for the injured man.

Franklin could not prevent his thoughts to stray for a moment. There must be a most astonishing story behind this. But soon he shoved all thoughts aside and gently, carefully, as if attending to a scared animal he started to unwrap the scarf around the others neck. As soon as his view fell on what was beneath the situation started to make much more sense.

It had taken him a while to attend to all the different injuries the young Centauri had suffered from his own people’s hands; even longer than it was necessary since Franklin nearly busted from curiosity and would have loved to bombard the two men with questions but he held back.

Then he had attended to G’Kar who had been a much more fruitful source of information as soon as the Narn-medic had left the room.

Now he sat accompanied by the Narn in the room Tesorino was resting, looking at the sleeping figure beneath the thin blankets. Now and then the man was twitching and mumbling incomprehensible words in his sleep.  He had to give him a sedative to make him rest and did so after Ta’Lon had told him how long the Centauri had refused to sleep after he had woken from his unconsciousness after the first aid the two Narn had performed on him.

“What are you going to do with him?” Stephen asked nothing in particular.

“I have spoken to Delenn about the subject,” G’Kar replied, “we both thought it might be best if he stayed with the Rangers for now.”

Franklin looked surprised. “Did he consent to join them?”

“He won’t,” the Narn went on, “someday he might want to and then he can. But at first he has to be somewhere safe and learn to be free. Also we must see that he gets rid of this damned collar. I’m afraid that might be a harder task than we think but without removing it he has no chance for peace.”

Franklin looked at the Narn and asked: “Why that? Don’t you think the Rangers of all people would be best suited to look past a slave collar?”

“Maybe,” the Narn replied, “but that’s not the point. He’s not just any Centauri slave; he has been Cartagia’s personal slave. I bet there are masses of Centaury who would pay a high price to lay their hands on him. Then there is his unique appearance. As far as I know albinos are even less frequent among Centauri than they are in general. I’m sure people know the only existing Centauri albino had belonged to the unfavored emperor. Presumed it really is possible to do something about his eye color as you said; it might still be necessary he has to disguise himself far beyond the dangers he just escaped. And not just close to Centauri, maybe even among other people.”

Franklin looked back at the huddled figure on the bed. “This is a very sad perspective.” He uttered.

“He wanted to live,” Ta’Lon stated plainly, “if he still wants to stay alive as soon as he realizes what it will cost, he’ll pay the price.” The warrior stared at them as if he dared them to challenge what he just said. “He’s been through a lot already. I’m not convinced this is any harder. I’m pretty sure he’ll manage.”

With that he left the room. Soon the others followed and went back to their own cabins. They all wanted to be left alone.


	5. Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the bunnies are tired! This is finished! I hope you liked it and I'd love to hear what you think about it!

The tall and slender man stood still and watched the planet peacefully rotating far beneath the ship he stood on. It wouldn’t be much longer till the landing of the White Star ship.

He had never been to Minbar before but he looked forward to see it.

It had taken him a long time to discover his new identity. It had been hard, oh so very hard at the beginning. But the contact with the people from other worlds, with their strange and new perspectives and ideas how life was meant to be and their unrelenting willingness to do anything possible to make the universe a better place to live in had soothed his battered soul.

He had been reborn; stripped himself from everything that had been, given up anything that had blemished him and burdened him. He had been told letting go was the hardest task most people could think of but for him it had almost been cathartic. It was a relief to leave everything behind. It had already been relieve to just contemplate the possibility to let everything go. Not to pretend it hadn’t happen but to just accept it as being past and gone. 

But still, as just said it had been hard to change. It had taken him years to escape the man he had been.

The first steps had been to accept that he might not be as worthless as he had been raised to believe. Then he had to learn how to decide for himself. Although he had made the most important decision, the one to fight for his own life, without any second thoughts, the possibility of freedom had never occurred to him and he hadn’t had the slightest idea what that could mean. Still, he was more ready for obedience then others and would possibly ever be but he was more than willing to fight for his rights if necessary. And he was willing, truly willing to dedicate his life to something greater; something more important than he was. He was still willing to serve but this time he was the one to choose whom to serve.

And he had chosen.

They had fed him, cared for him and helped him in any way possible. They had shown him kindness and compassion, taught him more than just how to be of service.

And he had been strong and quick and passionate, he was sure now he could offer more that they had expected when they had allowed him to stay with them to learn and grow although he wasn’t one of them.

Now he was finally strong enough and he would give back to others what he had been given.

He smiled at his shadowy reflection in the window.  His eyes had now a grey tone and his hair was always cut short. Anyone who didn’t know him assumed him to be human. But there, on his neck was tight fitting band in unpolished dull silver beneath his robes. It was plain and without any markings, not very noticeable or even spangling but that was intended. They hadn’t been able to remove the collar after all but they had grinded it down and found the hard and impenetrable metal beneath the gold that once had ornamented it. The needs necessary to remove it completely would have killed him; they didn’t even know for sure how the Centauri jeweler had been able to attach it in the first place. But he didn’t mind. After all it had saved his life in more than one way who knew what it would be good for in the future?

He turned away from the window and went on to his new life.

Today was his day. Today he would ultimately shed his past and rise from the ashes of a broken life.

Today Tesorino the former slave would become Armato the Ranger, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armato is also Italian and means 'armed'

**Author's Note:**

> Tesorino is Italian and means as much as 'dearie'. I thought Italian might fit a Centauri name best.


End file.
